


A Love Story

by OperationBlanketFort



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas, Darillium (Doctor Who), F/M, Fluff, but good sillynonsense, self indulgent sillynonsense, there's nothing here but fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28317873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperationBlanketFort/pseuds/OperationBlanketFort
Summary: A second christmas on Darillium.
Relationships: The Doctor/River Song, Twelfth Doctor/River Song
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	A Love Story

“Honey, I’m home!” called River, with a slam of the door and a shuffle of her coat. 

“Oh, oh,” replied the Doctor, scrambling got the living room door. He hadn’t expected her home quite yet. “No peeking!”

“Peeking?” asked River, her face hidden by her jumper. He’d had a lucky break that she hadn’t seen. He closed the door and hurried to her side. “What is there to peek?”

“Oh, this and that. How was work?” he helped her out of her jumper- her brooch was stuck- only to be met with raised eyebrows.

“Changing the subject, husband?”

“Only until you tell me about your day,” he smiled. She softened too, stroking his arm. 

“Ah, same old. They aren’t all going to fail on me, at least. Yours?”

“I may have cancelled all my lectures.”

“On the last day? Scandalous. Had other plans, did you?” 

“One or two.” He watched her fiddle with putting her scarf away, and when she was happy he cupped her face with his hand. “Welcome home, River.” 

Her eyes sparkled. “Thank you. Now, what am I not supposed to peek at?” 

“I was going to wait until after dinner…”

“But then your wife came home and you couldn’t bear to wait any longer?” she grinned hopefully.

“Exactly,” he laughed, fingers squirming in anticipation. “But you have to close your eyes.” She raised her eyebrows again, but then did as asked. He watched her for a second, awestruck by her, then placed his hands on her shoulders. 

“I don’t need a guide,” she spluttered, and in response he kissed the back of her head.

“Humour me.” He helped her to the living room, though she had to open the door, and placed her somewhere near the middle. He kissed her on the forehead as his hands released her shoulders. “Still no looking!” 

She was sad to lose his touch, but oddly entertained by listening to him grunt and press switches. There was the sound of a plug, and even with her eyes closed she could tell something in the light had changed. She heard him chuckle, then felt his hands on her shoulders again. He repositioned her slightly and held her hand. She squeezed his. 

“Okay,” he whispered, “open up.”

Half hoping that the view would be him, she opened her eyes. It wasn’t her husband. 

He’d put up a Christmas tree. Goodness, it was beautiful.   
It was an impressive size, taller than both of them. There were no needles on the carpet, but it managed to still emit a glorious Christmas smell. He’d picked gorgeous decorations too, some of which she recognised from last week’s Christmas market. Red baubles were the most common, and they made the scattered blue and silver even more inviting. At the top of the tree sat a gold star. It glittered nicely, though River had to bite back a laugh- it was the one from their first Christmas here, at the restaurant. She was the one to do the stealing, usually. The lights, in orderly rows that Amy would’ve killed to achieve, shone a warm and inviting gold. It bathed the room in perfect, beautiful light. Maybe just the right level to hide her tears. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said, turning to him. 

“I’m glad you think so.” He swung their hands, his eyes never leaving her face. 

She used her free hand to dry her tears. They were happy, so so happy, but he would take some convincing. “You aren’t even looking.”

“I’ve already seen it,” he shrugged, “and you beat the view, every time.” 

He knew he was right, of course. His River, always so beautiful, would always be better to look at than any view he found them. Today, her face bathed in the golden glow of the lights, he’d hit the jackpot. The gold suited her so well. It caught every perfection of her face, highlighted every one of her curls, made her shine like the sun. He welled up a little, overcome. 

“My star,” he murmured to her, “my guiding star.” His voice only wavered a little, he told himself. “Happy Christmas.” 

“Happy Christmas, my love.” His words weren’t lost on her, and she had to convince herself her voice wasn’t wobbly. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, my pleasure. Ah, and there’s this!” he snapped his fingers. Music started. She’d have to have a word with him later- she didn’t know that they had speakers in here- but smiled. The music was slow, but clearly Christmassy. She didn’t know it, but immediately loved it. The Doctor raised their joined hands. “Dance with me?” 

She nodded, definitely unable to speak now, and let him spin her. She fell into his embrace comfortably. They swayed in an almost-waltz, happy to hide their faces. She pressed hers into his chest, and after a moment it was there she gained the courage to ask “why?” 

“I love you.” He said simply. What else could it have been?

She smiled, and looked up at him. “I love you too.”

He held her closer, and she held him tight. That’s how they stayed, for their long, long night.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! the title comes from my mum. this is the first (probably only) fic of mine she's read, so i thought it was appropriate. apologies for any formatting errors, i'm high on christmas dinner. kudos and comments always welcomed with squealing, but as always no pressure. have a wonderful christmas / holiday season everyone, and stay safe!


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